Cheer Up, Sleepy Jean
by adaydreambeliever
Summary: The Monkees are at the height of their popularity. But what happens when an unexpected miracle walks in off the streets and into their hearts? Are Mike, Micky, Peter, and Davy capable of taking care of little girl who needs them more than anything?
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N): Hello! My name is Carly, and this is my first Monkees fanfiction. I really don't know what to say, except that this is a work of fiction and I don't own Mike, Micky, Peter or Davy in anyway. I do own my original characters though, as I made them up myself. But anyways, here's my first chapter! :)**

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**Chapter 1**  
Mike Nesmith wandered aimlessly around the streets of his home in Malibu, California, whistling a quiet tune to himself, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Strands of his wispy dark hair blew thoughtlessly in the night wind, as the signature green wool hat he wore on his head stayed secure. His shoes crunched on the gravel under his feet as his brown eyes skimmed the small shops and stores lined up neatly on each side of him. The only lights outside were the dim street lamps and the illuminating full moon. Mike liked this. He enjoyed the sound of the ocean crashing out behind the boardwalk and the quiet chirps of crickets nearby. It was peaceful, especially if you were living with a bunch of Monkees, like he was. It was his time to reflect on his life, what was going on it, and what was going to happen. He didn't get to do it very often, but he savored the fifteen minutes he got greedily. Mike continued to stroll down the block, acknowledging the few other people that he passed on his way. Most of them were scurrying to get home, as it was a Friday night, and it had been a long, tiresome, week. Checking his watch, he noted that it was almost eleven o' clock.

"I guess I better start heading back to The Pad." He sighed, turning on the heels of his feet, starting to walk back to the beach house he shared with his three best friends. Hopefully they were already in bed. He really didn't feel like playing babysitter tonight. Trying to get his pals to go to sleep was like trying to wrangle a bunch of wild animals into cages at a zoo. Mike smirked a little as he thought about this. He continued on down the lonesome sidewalk, ready to crawl under his warm sheets and escape from the cold, September evening that was among them. For a while, he was too distracted in his own thoughts to notice that the crickets had died down, and he was far enough from the ocean not to hear it anymore. The only sounds were his slow and steady footsteps. But soon, Mike realized that he wasn't alone. Every time he walked, he thought he heard another person scurry behind him. He whipped around, his heart pounding in his chest, to reveal that there was no one there. Swallowing thickly, he kept on going. But he heard it again. Small and delicate footsteps prancing on the pavement. Mike shot around once more, and when he saw once again that there was no one there, he picked up his pace.

"This is ridiculous." He muttered to himself. There were about three more blocks to his home. But once the tiny footsteps behind him picked up again, Mike was certain somebody was following him. He stared sprinting no, desperate to reach to safety of The Pad, but whoever was behind him starting running behind him as well. He didn't dare turn back now. Suddenly, a cold and clammy hand clamped down on his back.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Mike screamed, jumping three feet up in the air, an expression of pure horror twisted on his face. He fell to the ground, as panicked wheezes escaped from his mouth.

"I'M ARMED, I'M ARMED!" He lied, spinning around, expecting to see some burly man in a mask holding a pistol to his face. But instead, much to his surprise, all that was standing behind him was a small, whimpering little girl. Her hypnotizing blue eyes widened in fear as she stepped back a little, frightened by Mike's actions. Her mousy brown hair ran down her back, leaves and parts of shrubs stuck inside. Her delicate face with smudged with dirt as tears ran down it, cleaning some of it away. She was wearing a red velvet jumper, with white tights and black Mary Jane shoes. Well, Mike assumed that they had once been black, from what he could make out in the darkness of the night. They, as well as her clothes, were quite messy too. The girl's small frame shook as she stared into his eyes, as she held her fists together tightly. She only appeared to be about five or six years old. Mike's heart fell at the sight of this small child so badly shaken up. He sat up slowly, trying his hardest not to startle her anymore.

"I-I-I'm sorry, little one. I didn't mean to scare you like that." He stuttered through struggled, raspy breaths. His heart was still banging wildly in his chest, but after a few moments, it subsided. When he saw that she was still clenched up, he moved a little closer to her.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you, I swear." He promised. The girl's expression soon softened as she saw that he wasn't lying. She loosened her hands and slowly walked over to him. Her watery eyes looked him up and down, and when she saw that he was just as startled as she was, she knew that he was okay. The little girl rubbed her nose furiously on her sleeve and then turned her focus back towards the tall Texan sitting before her on the sidewalk.

"I'm sorry for scaring you, mister." She finally croaked. She swatted away the few tears that were still falling from her face. Mike chuckled lightly.

"Oh, it's quite alright. I-I-If anything, I'm sorry for scaring you." He replied in his thick Texas accent. The little girl stepped a little bit closer to him, seeing as he wasn't going to hurt her in any way.

"What's your name sweetheart?" Mike asked softly as the night air sent a shiver down his spine.

"Beatrice." She answered after a couple moments of silence. She ran a small hand thought her hair, looking down onto the pavement.

"Beatrice. Well, that's a very pretty name. It's nice to meet you. My name is Mike." He grinned, extending his large hand for her to shake. Beatrice stared at it for a few moments before she gradually took her small hand in his. It was warm, which felt good to her.

"Now, what's a pretty little princess like you doing out here alone, so late at night?" That was the question that had been at the top of Mike's mind for the past five minutes. He didn't see any sign of the child's parents, and she obviously looked like she had been out here a long time. Beatrice shuffled her feet, avoiding Mike's gaze for a little while, until she finally opened her mouth to speak.

"I've been out here all day. My mommy and I were shopping, and then she left me out there by that lamp post. She told me not to move and that she would be back soon to come pick me up. But she never did." A couple of small tears rolled down her small, pale face again as the memories of earlier that day started flooding back to her. Mike's heart snapped in two at the sight of this small child in such a state. He opened his mouth to try to speak some words of wisdom, but much to his surprise; Beatrice ran into his arms and clutched the back of his jacket tightly with her small fists. Mike didn't know what to do. Here he was, with an abandoned little girl hugging him, out on the streets of Malibu. The only thing he could think to do was to hug her back. And that's exactly what he did. He wrapped his arms around the child's heaving frame and rubbed circles in her back comfortingly.

"There, there, you're going to be okay." He whispered, as Beatrice continued to sob. It took a couple of minutes for her to calm down, until she released herself from Mike's grasp and looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. He could see that she was still shivering from the cold night air, so he took off his snug, fleece jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders instead. Beatrice clutched the sides gratefully, but still had the same panicked expression visible on her face.

"Well, where am I going to go? I don't know where my mommy is. What am I supposed to do?" She whimpered, wiping her eyes. Mike thought for a moment.

"Well, it's too late to go and turn you over to the police. And I can't really try and look for your mom anywhere at this time of night," He said aloud as Beatrice stood close to him, holding onto his waist.

"I guess you could come and stay at my house for the night." He said finally. Beatrice sniffed and nodded her head feebly. This man was very nice to her. He had comforted her in her time of need, and she knew he was going to protect her for the time being.

"Could I really?" She asked innocently. Mike smiled softly and nodded his head.

"Of course. We're buddies now, and you need to get out of this cold air and into a nice warm bed." He announced, lifting the girl into his arms. Beatrice wrapped her small arms around his neck and rested her head onto his shoulder, her long hair falling over.

"Thank you Mike." She said, nuzzling into him. She felt safe with this man, even though they had only known each other for about fifteen minutes. Her mommy had always told her to never go home with a stranger, but it was her mommy who forgot about her and left her on the streets. It was fair play now. Mike let out a shaky sigh and smiled gently as Beatrice held onto him tightly.

"It's alright Beatrice. You're safe with me now." He said, as he patted her back comfortingly and walked on into the brisk September night.

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**(A/N): Well, I hope you enjoyed what I've got so far. I hope to add more to this at least once a week. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE leave reviews; I would LOVE some feedback! Thank you! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N): Hey guys! So I actually managed to write a whole 'nother chapter in 24 hours! :D I hope you like it! **

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**Chapter 2  
**Though it was getting pretty late, Mike noticed that once she got a little used to him, Beatrice loved to talk. She had been running her mouth for almost ten minutes, as she was still nuzzled in the man's arms, his jacket and warm embrace protecting her from the harsh wind. On the walk back to the Pad, Mike had learned a couple of things about her. Her full name was Beatrice Walker; she was seven years old, and in the first grade at Webster Elementary School. She loved princesses, tea parties, pistachio ice cream, and music. Well, she was in for a real treat. Mike smiled as every now and then, a small yawn would escape from Beatrice's mouth as she smacked her lips lightly and held onto him tighter. The two of them continued on in the darkness for a few minutes, with only a handful of dim lamps lighting their way, until Mike finally reached the stairs up to his house. He gently set the small girl down as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the key. Then, lifting her into his arms once again, he swung open the door and stepped inside. Much to Mike's disappointment, the boys were still awake, yet in their pajamas, huddled around the small television in the living room, their eyes glued to the screen. Mike rolled his eyes as the three of them didn't even notice he and their new visitor had arrived.

"Hello fellas." He chimed cheerily, walking into The Pad a little more. The three men grunted in response, still fixed onto the latest episode of The Partridge Family. Beatrice stared up at Mike with sleepy eyes and whispered into his ear.

"Who are they?" She asked softly. Mike smirked.

"Well, these guys are my best buddies." He replied a little louder. This caught the attention of Micky Dolenz, whose head popped up immediately at the mention of that. The curly haired man had to do a double take as he finally noticed that Mike was back, with a small child in his arms.

"Who's she?" He questioned mysteriously, rising from his seat on the couch and slowly walking over to the two new arrivals. Not sure if she was welcome or not yet, Beatrice clutched Mike's neck harder with her small arms. He placed a protective hand on her back as she started to clench up again. Her chatty self suddenly disappeared as the tiny, timid little one he had first met made a reappearance again.

"Well Micky, this is, uh, my new pal Beatrice." He said, as if it was a normal everyday thing to suddenly appear home with a random kid off the streets. By now, Mike's other two roommates Peter Tork and Davy Jones had sprinted over to see what all of the commotion was about. They too were stunned to see this strange little girl being cradled in their friend's arms. Beatrice's face paled as the looks that were being shot at her didn't seem the most heartwarming. The three boys were glancing from her to Mike hastily, confusion and concern twisting their expressions.

"Beatrice. Well Michael, how did you find this little one?" Davy asked, crossing his arms over his chest. The short Englishman couldn't take his eyes off of her. He didn't know what to think. Was Mike crazy? Was this some sort of a weird prank or something? If it was, kudos for him; he really had them going.

"Actually, she was the one that found me." Mike answered simply, brushing past his buddies and taking a seat on the couch. Micky, Peter, and Davy all followed him quickly, desperate to find out more about the strange child in their home.

"And how so?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow as he studied Beatrice with clear blue eyes.

"Well, I was out on my evening stroll, and this little one just wandered up behind me. It gave me quite a scare, but we got to talking, and I guess you could say that we've bonded in the past half hour." Mike was barely paying attention to the reactions of his friends. He was too busy making sure that the girl in his arms was comfortable and felt safe. Beatrice slumped down onto him and let out another big yawn. She grasped his pant legs with small fists and started to close her eyes. Mike carefully ran his long, bony fingers through her silky hair as it hung over the side of his knee as her breathing steadied. Soon enough, she was out like a light.

"Okay Mike, what's this all really about? I know for a fact that you wouldn't bring home a girl, of any age, out of nowhere if it wasn't for a real good reason." Micky asked. After checking to make sure that Beatrice was really sleeping, Mike let out a sigh. To his surprise, it came out with a slight whistle to it. That wasn't a good sign.

"Fine," He started, adjusting his position as he was met with the questioning eyes of his pals. "I was walking like I normally do, and this little one appears out from behind a lamp post and taps me on the back. Naturally, I screamed and fell down, but when I saw that she was just as frightened as I was, I chilled out a little." He continued to stroke Beatrice's mousy hair with his hand as he paused patiently; waiting for the rest of the guys to take in what was being said.

"This little girl was left all day by herself out on the streets by her mother, who promised to come back for her and never did. And as you could see, she's scared, helpless, confused, and has no idea why her parent would do that to her. I have no idea myself. But I couldn't just leave a poor child out there to sleep outside all alone all night. It's not right, and it wouldn't feel good to have God knowing that I knew she was there and didn't do anything to help her out," Mike continued, as Beatrice exhaled slowly beneath him.

"But Mike, we don't know the first thing about taking care of a kid! What about the band? How are we going to rehearse and play gigs if we've got some little girl running about?" Davy objected. Micky and Peter nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, and we've barely got enough money as it is for ourselves. How are we possibly going to afford to get clothes and food for another person?" Peter asked. Mike just shook his head.

"We'll have to make do with what we've got. Even if it takes a little more of our time to play gigs and earn a little extra cash. And I know that taking care of a little one isn't going to be easy. But we've always loved a challenge. And this girl needs us more than anything right now." Mike explained.

All he got were three blank expressions.

"Now look fellas, tomorrow, we'll get everything straightened out. We'll find out a little bit more about her and get a little help from the police as well to try and find her mother or whoever is taking care of her. But for the time being, we've got the responsibility of watching over her for the night and making sure that she's safe. The poor thing is scared enough as it is, and I don't think it would help anyone if you guys just blew her off and didn't make a little bit of effort to try and make her feel welcome, would it?" He asked, glancing from person to person. All three of them shook their heads. Mike smiled.

"I'm glad y'all understand. All I'm saying is that we give this girl all the love and protection we can, just for tonight, and hopefully by this time tomorrow, she'll be back home with her family, safe and sound. Do you think you three can manage that?" They nodded their heads slowly in agreement. Micky let out a small chuckle.

"She is pretty cute." He admitted as he watched her little chest rise up and down slowly in Mike's lap. Davy scooted a little closer to her and slowly placed his hand on her shoulder.

"You know, I've always wanted a little sister." He said feebly. Peter grinned as well.

"She does seem like she could use a lot of support right now. And you know I can't resist kids." He giggled. Pretty soon, the three of them were all sitting in front of Mike's legs, just watching the little girl sleep with great admiration. This worked out a lot better than Mike had expected. He wasn't quite sure at first if the guys were going to be okay with all of this. And although he could still see uncertainty clear as day in their eyes, he knew that they were going to try their absolute hardest to make little Beatrice as happy as she could be for as long as she was in their care. He slowly tried to get up from his seat on the couch without waking her, but soon enough, Bea's big blue eyes fluttered open. Mike held her close to him as she yawned again.

"Hey there. I don't think we've introduced ourselves yet." Peter said sheepishly, standing up and walking over to her. "I'm Peter Tork, one of Mike's best friends." He said cheerily, extending a hand for her to shake. Beatrice glanced up into Mike's brown eyes, as if asking him for permission to return the favor, and when he smiled down at her, she happily shook it.

"We're very excited for you to be staying with us tonight. My name is David, but my friends call me Davy. And since you're one of them, I guess you can too!" The British lad placed his hand on top of hers and grinned a toothy smile. She shyly smiled back and giggled.

"Hello Davy."

"Hi!" He said. "I think that we're going to get along just fine."

And finally, Micky came bouncing over, shooting the girl a goofy face, crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out.

"And I'm Micky! It's a pleasure to meet you Beatrice!" He announced cheerily, tickling her just below the ribs. Beatrice let out a high pitched giggle as she playfully swatted his hands away. The three of them seemed awfully nice to her. She liked them already. Mike smiled as well and cleared his throat.

"Well, uh, I'm going to go upstairs and get changed for bed." He said, handing Beatrice over to Micky. Secretly, he just wanted the guys and her to bond for a little while, you know, get comfortable with each other. He didn't even think they noticed that he slipped upstairs as Davy and Peter were excitedly chatting with her while Micky bounced her up and down in his arms. Mike chuckled to himself and quickly got into his pajamas. After brushing his teeth and tossing his favorite wool cap under his pillow, he slid into bed. Not soon after, the guys came into the room they all shared, with a sleeping Beatrice now cradled in Davy's arms. She was slumped down over his shoulder as he walked over quietly and handed her to Mike.

"She's out cold," He chuckled, jumping into his own bed. "And I think that she would like it best if she slept with you tonight. You know, so she won't get scared." Mike smiled as Micky and Peter burrowed under their covers and switched off their lights, carefully placing her next to him. He would like it best too.

"Good night guys." He called into the darkness. The three of them mumbled their good nights, and soon, Micky's light snoring was the only sound heard throughout the room. Mike yawned and rolled over so he was facing the sleeping little girl beside him, one of her tiny little arms thrown lazily over his stomach.

"Good night Beatrice." He whispered softly, rubbing her bangs out of her face before turning out his bedside lamp and falling into a fitless sleep.

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**(A/N): Aw, isn't Mike just so great with kids? Please leave a review, and the next chapter should be up soon! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N): Hey guys! Sorry for the little wait and the shortness of this chapter. I've been super busy with schoolwork and high school orientations. This is sort of a quick, filler chapter, but I can promise that there will be alot more action happening in the next few. :)**

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**Chapter 3  
**The next morning, Beatrice woke up to the heavenly scent of blueberry pancakes drifting up the stairs and into her nose. She groggily rubbed her eyes and sat up, her hair strewn about.

"That's weird," She thought, sniffing the air once more. "Mommy doesn't cook."

And it was then that she realized that she wasn't at home. Beatrice glanced around her surroundings, expecting to see her pink walls and her stuffed animals and her record player which was always blasting the latest Beatles album. But instead, she was greeted with gray walls, a mermaid statue, and four twin beds, one which she was currently tangled in. Suddenly, all the memories of the previous day came floating back to her: Mommy telling her that she could cut school and go out for the day with her, abandoning her on the streets. Her small seven year old self having to walk around in circles, looking around for her parent, while she wept at the thought of having to sleep outside without a roof over her head. And then, she remembered the nice man who she had tapped on the shoulder to try to ask for directions to her neighborhood, the nice man who took her home and told her that everything was going to be alright. Mike. That was his name. And this was his and his friend's house. But where were they? Springing up from the sheets that she'd been trapped in, Beatrice jumped to the floor and peered out into the hallway. She leaned over the railing and got a good view of the downstairs area. Slowly and carefully, she made her way down the spiral staircase and pattered around.

"Well, hi there sleepyhead!" Beatrice soon felt herself being lifted into the arms of the fuzzy haired one, as he grinned widely at her. What was his name again? Oh yeah, Micky.

"Hello!" She remarked back, her eyes twinkling. Micky smiled and started walking towards the kitchen.

"Did ya sleep well?" He asked as he turned into the room where the mouthwatering smell was coming from. Beatrice nodded as he set her down in front of Peter and the British one. Um…Donald? No, that's not right. DAVY. They smiled and wished her good morning.

"I hope Micky's snoring didn't keep you up all night." Peter remarked, causing her to giggle. Micky made a face at him as Beatrice turned her head and saw Mike stirring the batter for the scrumptious smelling pancakes. She got up from her place at the table and pulled at the back of his shirt. He turned and looked down on her, his face instantly lighting up.

"Hey there, little one!" He exclaimed, ruffing her messy hair. She just grinned and wrapped her small arms around his waist. Mike smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm just making us some breakfast here. Do you like pancakes?" He stupidly asked as the small girl was literally drooling as she watched him flip the perfectly chiseled circles onto a plate. Beatrice nodded and skipped back over to the table, sitting in between Micky and Davy. Mike walked over; setting the sizzling pancakes onto the table as the three Monkees hastily shoved their share onto their plates. He leaned over Beatrice and helped to slide two onto hers, and without even noticing, started cutting them into bite sized pieces. She smiled. Her mother never once cut her food for her. As orange juice and fruit was passed around, Mike cleared his throat.

"Well, today's going to be a busy day for all of us. Beatrice, we're going to try our hardest to-"

Suddenly, an urgent knock came pounding on the door furiously.

"Uh oh. There's only one person that can be." Davy remarked glumly, popping a piece of cantaloupe into his mouth. Mike pushed his chair away from the table as he got up and grudged over, swinging the door open. Putting on a fake, cheesy smile, he allowed the stranger inside.

"Why, hello Mr. Babbit," He cooed, ushering their landlord into their home. "What a PLEASANT surprise." Mr. Babbit just growled, a five o' clock shadow covering most of his chin. He pushed hastily past Mike and stepped into the living room.

"I don't suppose you four have got your month's rent in, do you?" He barked, raising his eyebrows as he looked around the place. Mike hiccupped nervously as he glanced at Peter with panicked eyes.

"Well, you see here Mr. B," He started, getting up from his place at the table. "As musicians, one does not simply ask one of us if we have a month's rent. No, we pay for our home with our wonderful skills, our voices, our magic. You should be honored and amazed that you've got such miracles like us residing in this here building, as we enlighten your-" Mr. Babbit rolled his eyes as he clamped a hand over Peter's mouth.

"Can it Blondie," He sighed. The man was about to let the Monkees have it until he noticed the bright eyed little girl sitting on the edge of her chair, watching the action taking place with great concern. Mr. Babbit strolled over to the kitchen and glanced down at her.

"Who's this?" He asked sharply, looking Beatrice over up and down with a snarky eye. Micky jumped up from the table and wrapped his arms around her protectively.

"Why, this is, uh, Mike's cousin's girlfriend's uncle's daughter!" He spit out.

"Twice removed." Peter added. Mr. Babbit snorted.

"Well, she better not be causing any trouble. If she's anything like you fellas, she's got a cell in prison with her name on it." Beatrice was disgusted by the way this man was acting, but Davy rushed to her rescue just in time, scooping her into his arms as he walked over.

"Now, you listen here. Beatrice is the most perfect little angel that you'll ever meet, and if you insult her, you insult us. Now we'll get your rent as soon as we can, but for right now, let us have our breakfast in peace, alright?" He demanded. Mr. Babbit was taken a little aback by the Englishman's sudden act of courageousness.

"Fine." He muttered, exiting the door, before calling back. "I want it in a week or you rats are out of here and onto the streets!" Then the door closed with a bang.

"Well that was nice." Mike sighed, returning back to the table. He saw Beatrice's lip start to quiver a little.

"Aw, don't take what that old bat said to heart. You're amazing in our eyes." Peter told her, placing a hand on her shoulder as Davy set her in her chair. She smiled, revealing a gap where her two front teeth would normally be that he hadn't noticed before. It only added a little more to her cuteness factor. Mike clinked his glass together.

"Now, as I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted," He started. "Today's going to be busy. We're going to go down to the police station and try to hunt Bea's mother down so she can be back at home safe and sound. But until then, we're going to have a lot of fun with each other, right guys?" All three Monkees nodded their heads in agreement. Beatrice smiled softly, but deep down inside, she didn't want to leave the four boys so soon. They were just so nice to her. They cared about her. They saved her. She didn't want to just forget about them already.

And little did she know that the guys were beginning to feel the same way about her too.

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**(A/N): Once again, I apologize that this is so short! I'll be able to write a lot more over the weekend, and there's a lot of twists and turns coming up. Please review! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**(A/N): Hey hey! Here's the next chapter! Enjoy! :)**

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**Chapter 4  
**After Mike's pancakes were all devoured and sticky, syrupy fingers were wiped off, it was finally time for the guys and little Beatrice to start heading off towards the police station on the mission to find her parents. The small girl soon reminded them that she was still wearing the same dirty dress and tights that she had been the night before, but Peter soon came up with a solution to that. Pawing through his closet, he pulled out a small sweater with a teddy bear on it, a pair of worn out blue jeans, and a sky blue bow. Luckily they were just her size.

"It's a good thing that I accidently packed a bunch of my sister's old clothes from when she was a kid when we first moved in here," He beamed. "We can finally put those to good use."

As the rest of the Monkees got dressed, Beatrice wandered around the living room area. She noticed, now that it was a lot brighter, that there was a large alcove by the window stock full of instruments. Drums, guitars, maracas, tambourines.

"The guys must be musicians." Bea concluded as she continued to ponder about. But soon, four pairs of shoes stomping down the staircase interrupted her thoughts. Davy came over to her and took her small hand in his.

"Ready to go?" He chirped. She nodded quickly as she skipped alongside him, Mike holding the door open as everyone exited. The five of them walked out the front door and into the brisk Saturday morning air. It was pretty chilly at this time of year, even in California, but nobody seemed to mind.

"Hello boys!" Beatrice turned her head at the sudden cry and soon saw a little old woman waving to them from her front porch. She sat on a rocking chair in her bathrobe, casually reading a gardening magazine and sipping a cup of tea.

"Hello Mrs. Filchok!" Micky called back. Mrs. Filchok came scurrying over, eager to greet her neighbors with a warm smile. It was then that she noticed the small child latched onto Davy's arm.

"And who is this little one?" She asked sweetly, kneeling down to the girl's level. Mike placed a hand on her shoulder and beamed.

"Well, this is Beatrice. She's been staying with us for a little bit." He said as he adjusted the little green hat on his head. Mrs. Filchok nodded.

"Well, you're a very pretty youngster, aren't you?" She said, causing Beatrice to blush. The elderly lady grinned, showing aging dimples before turning back up her walkway and into her chair.

"Goodbye fellas! Have a wonderful day!" She called back.

"You too!" Peter replied as they continued on. Mike pulled open the door to the famous Monkeemobile and hopped in the driver's seat. There was barely enough room to fit the four boys by themselves, so Beatrice sat propped up on Micky's lap as he whispered jokes into her ears and let her rest her tiny head against his chest the entire ride to the police station.

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"So, Beatrice, when is the absolute last moment you remember seeing your mom?"

Deputy Roger Terrance sat with his legs propped up on his desk, a cigarette in between his teeth, as he stared curiously at the small girl who was sat down in front of him. She sat with one hand clutched in Peter's, the other in Mike's as she thought back to the night before. Davy and Micky stood awkwardly in the back of his office as they looked from person to person with anticipation. Beatrice swallowed thickly.

"Yesterday afternoon. She told me that she was going to use the bathroom and that she was going to come back. I was left in front of the lamppost in front of the library. And then she never came back."

"Do you by any chance remember what time it was?"

"No."

The child sniffed slightly, not wanting to let the tears that she had been holding back for the past half hour free. When the Monkees and she had arrived at the station earlier that morning, Mike was the first to explain how the two had met and what their intentions were. The officer, who had rusty red hair, a sprinkle of freckles across his nose, and thick wire framed glasses resting on his face, had been listening intently to the kid as he asked her question after question, trying to pry into her memory for any hint of where her mother may have gone. He could tell that she really didn't know anything about what happened after that, but she was very clearly upset. Mike placed a comforting hand on her back and started to rub soothing circles into it.

"Well, Beatrice, I thank you for your cooperation. If you don't mind stepping into the hallway for a little bit, I'll talk to your, um, caretakers here and ask them a few more questions. I've got a coloring book here and some crayons to keep you entertained for a while." Deputy Terrence smiled, handing her the supplies and ushering her to the door. Beatrice turned back, looking at the boys with questioning eyes, but when Mike gave her his famous reassuring grin, she knew it was okay. Deputy Terrance shut the door behind her and turned to the four Monkees.

"Well, I must admit that I was very surprised to see you four arrive here with her," He started, pacing around the room, taking a puff of his cigarette and blowing it out into the room. Mike let out a hacking, wheezy cough as the smoke drifted into his lungs.

"Why would that be?" Micky asked, slapping Mike on the back as he struggled to get his breathing under control. Terrance was completely oblivious to that as he took another drag, flopping back into his chair and turning to face them.

"You said the kid's name is Beatrice Walker, eh?" He said, pushing his glasses up a notch on his nose.

"That's right." Davy replied. Terrance nodded his head.

"Yeah, we've seen her around here a lot before." Peter's eyebrows shot up at 23905719283 mph.

"What? Is she a bad kid? From what we've seen so far, she's a little angel."

"No no no, that's not it. Beatrice is super sweet; you have nothing to worry about," Terrance said, spinning around in his chair. "She's been here a lot because of her mother." Mike's face twisted with deep concern.

"Her mother?" He wheezed out. "What's she done?" Terrance let out a sigh, as he ran a hand through his wispy red locks.

"Amanda Walker is a bit of an alcoholic," He explained. "We've gotten many calls from their neighbors in the past couple of years reporting child abuse." All four Monkees went dead silent.

"Child abuse?!" They all cried at once. The deputy nodded sadly.

"Beatrice's father passed away in a pretty brutal freak accident when the kid was about four. That's when Mandy began turning to liquor and booze for support instead of being there for her child. From what their friends tell us, Mrs. Walker would come home every night after leaving little Bea alone all day, and she'd just be so drunk and so filled up with alcohol, she'd lash out on the kid. Mandy didn't know how to express her grief after losing her husband, and she had no idea that the child was still upset too, so she just let out all of her feelings through violence and hatred. According to her teacher at school, Beatrice would come in with a few bruises every now, but every time she was asked what happened, the kid would say that she fell off her bike. After getting so many reports of violence, we finally had Mandy locked up in rehab for about two years until she was well again. Beatrice stayed with her grandmother, who according to reports, passed away this past March. That was about the same time they let her mom out. Amanda really genuinely changed. She had given up alcohol and was ready to move on with her life. She was ready to become a caring, understanding mother. The case got taken to court, and the judge decided that it would be safe for Beatrice to move back home and live with her. And it was fine until now. We didn't get any calls, and Bea's teacher didn't report any injuries or signs of depression, so we assumed that everything was fine. And it was, up until yesterday. My guess is that Mandy is back to her own ways. I mean, why else would she let the kid out of school? She probably got wasted and forgot about her. Until you came along Mr. Nesmith. You saved her. She's been through so much hatred and loss in the short seven years that she's had, and you've really made up for it with all the love and support you fellas have given her in the past 24 hours. We can't thank you enough."

None of the Monkees moved. They sat there, frozen, the only sounds in the room being the ticking of the clock and what was left of Mike's light wheezing. A few tears rolled down Peter's cheek as he took in what Deputy Terrance had just said. Micky held his head solemnly and Davy just stared at the police officer in disbelief. Mike sat with his face in his hands.

"Oh golly," He finally managed at last, dabbing at his eyes. "I had no idea she'd been though all that."

"She's had a rough time of it." Terrance remarked.

"Well, we can't send her back with her mum! We can't!" Davy sprung up from his seat. "She's a monster!"

"Well, we've got to find her, so we can lock her up in again. I just don't know what we're gonna do with Beatrice though. She's got no other family, and I just don't feel right leaving her in foster care or anything like that. We've got until the end of the day to make our decision of what to do with her, but for the time being, I'd really appreciate it if you guys just watched her for a little longer." Terrance replied. The guys nodded their heads furiously.

"Of course! We'll do anything to help her!" Micky exclaimed.

"Great. For today, I'll have the whole squad on the hunt for Mandy Walker. All I'm asking you fellas to do is to keep your eye out for the kid, and make sure she's happy and distracted. We'll work on what to do once we find her mom." Terrance said, walking over the door and pulling it open. Beatrice came bolting in, smiling widely, the gap in between her two front teeth showing. She skipped over to Mike.

"Hi!" She stated cheerily, holding up a sloppily colored in picture of a dog. "Look what I made!"

Mike just lifted the small girl onto his lap and embraced her in his arms. He held her small head in his hand and just kept her close to him as the rest of the Monkees joined in on the group hug.

"We're gonna have lots of fun today, kid." He said, as she wrapped her small arms around him.

"That's a promise."

* * *

**(A/N): I hope you enjoyed and it wasn't too terribly sad. :P I've got tons of ideas for lots of fluffy chapters in the future, so stay tuned! Please review! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**(A/N): Wow! This is the longest chapter that I've ever written! :O Haha, but anyways, this is basically a bunch of fluff. I worked SUUPPPERRR hard on this chapter, so enjoy! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 5  
**"So, did they find my mommy yet?" The question panged at Davy's heart as he sat next to the little girl on the ride back to The Pad. He didn't know how to respond. He didn't want to say yes and lie, but he also didn't want to say no and see her innocent face fall like it did so many times earlier that day. The Brit shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he wrapped his arm around her side.

"Uh, the coppers are going to keep us updated throughout the day when they hear any news," He offered. "But for the time being, it's just going to be the five of us. Doesn't that sound fun?" Beatrice nodded enthusiastically as her mousy brown hair blew wildly in the wind of the topless vehicle. Mike chuckled in the driver's seat as Peter switched on the radio. There's a Kind of Hush by Herman's Hermits started playing. And to their surprise, Bea opened her mouth and started to sing along. Micky smiled and joined her. So did Davy. And then Mike and Peter. Pretty soon, the whole car was jamming out to Peter Noone's mystical voice and laughing all the same. It was definitely a great start to a great day ahead of them.

* * *

The Monkees had agreed that it would be a smart idea to hang around The Pad all day, just in case Deputy Terrance called to let them know the news on Mandy. Beatrice was the one to suggest a game of hide and seek. So as Micky crouched hidden in the laundry hamper in their bathroom, he kept his usually jabbering mouth shut. The fuzzy haired man knew that no one would ever find him there; they never once used their laundry hamper. But soon enough, he heard a pair of little shoes scampering up the steps and turn into the bedroom. Micky held his breath. Soon, the footsteps turned on the cold tile floor of their bathroom. He heard them start looking behind the shower curtain and in the medicine cabinet and under the sink. But soon, they came to a stop right in front of the bulging hamper. And off came the lid…

"Found you Micky!" Beatrice cried triumphantly, grinning as the man snapped his fingers in defeat.

"Gosh darn it. I wish sure that nobody would ever look in there!" He laughed, as he struggled to get out. Seeing his predicament, Bea grabbed his arm and pulled, but instead, the hamper toppled over onto the floor. Micky stumbled out and clutched his head, taking a seat on the floor. Beatrice crawled over and propped herself down right in front of him.

"Are you okay?" She asked while trying to stifle her laughter. Micky nodded.

"I think I'll live." He chuckled. Bea smiled. But then realizing that it was her fault that he fell out of the hamper in the first place, a small frown soon appeared on her face.

"Micky?" She asked suddenly, her tone changing. He glanced up from his hands and looked at her.

"Yeah, Bea?"

"You don't think I'm a nuisance, do you?" She said softly. Micky opened his mouth in protest.

"Why, of course not! Wherever did you get that idea?" He exclaimed. Beatrice just let out a sigh.

"I dunno. I kinda feel like I'm intruding on your guys' lives. Things would be a lot different if I wasn't here. Like you wouldn't have just fallen out of that hamper." She said. It was really a lot more than that. Her mother always called her a nuisance. She didn't want to be one, especially to the Monkees. Micky just exhaled loudly.

"Come here," He said, motioning for the child to join him. Bea crawled slowly over to him and sat on the man's lap. Micky wrapped his arm around her as she glanced up into his eyes.

"Things would be a lot different if you weren't here. We wouldn't be having as much fun, we wouldn't be playing as many games, and we wouldn't be as happy. You've really changed them, in a good way. You aren't a nuisance Beatrice, and you never will be." He consoled, giving her shoulders a small squeeze. She smiled.

"Now let's go find the rest of them!" Micky suggested, jumping up from the floor and taking her hand. Instantly forgetting any more negative thoughts, Beatrice giggled and ran beside him, eager to continue the game.

* * *

After finding Davy under the kitchen table, Mike in the coat closet, and Peter in the pantry, stuffing his face with crackers, Mike suggested that the five go down to the beach for a little stroll, as it had warmed up a lot and the group was starting to get a little antsy inside the house. They figured that if Terrance called while they were gone, he'd leave a message, so the five headed down the street to the sea. For a while, they sat on the sand and joked with one another. They built sand castles, until Peter tripped and fell on the best one. And the guys took Beatrice by the water, letting her dip her feet in as the waves curled up by her ankles. She liked that. Now, Mike was asleep on his back while Micky stared off into the distance and Peter was digging a hole. Davy and Bea walked hand in hand down the beach, leaving footprints behind them.

"The weather's getting nicer," Davy commented, looking up towards the sky. "It's beginning to feel like California again." Beatrice nodded her head slowly as she clutched his fingers harder. Peter's sister's sweater was beginning to bake her, as the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds, warming up the crisp air surrounding him. Davy seemed to notice her squirming about, desperately trying to reduce the sweltering heat.

"Are you hot in that thing Beatrice?" He asked finally. She shook her head and continued walking. Davy stopped.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Really?"

Pause.

"Why don't you just roll up your sleeves a little?" He suggested. When Beatrice didn't respond, he stopped. Davy noticed that her usual energetic figure was gone. He carefully walked over and kneeled in front of the small child.

"Bea, are you okay?" He asked. She just stood there quietly for a moment before obeying the man's orders and rolling up the wool sleeves to her sweater. Davy felt a pang in his heart when she did. Up and down her delicate little arms were the purplish remains of what had once been bruises. She had a few small cuts by her elbows that were healing and a faint scar just above her wrist as well. He swallowed thickly as Beatrice sniffed.

"Oh Bea," Was all he could manage at the moment. She stared up at him with sullen blue eyes, as she rolled the sleeves back down again. The small girl clenched her fists together tightly. Davy pulled her close to him, letting her clutch at the hems of his shirt. He didn't know what to say. This kid had been through too much in her short life. She was scarred. He didn't know how to tell her that she was in good hands now.

"Beatrice, we're never, ever going to hurt you. You're safe with us," He started, rubbing soothing circles into her back. "I know you've had a rough past, but you can put all of that behind you now." He said.

"It's been hard to get back to trusting people." She whispered. Davy nodded his head.

"I know it has. But Micky, Peter, Mike and I are always going to be there for you. Don't you worry your pretty little head." He smiled, tickling her under the chin. Beatrice giggled, a wide grin spreading across her face. She playfully smacked his head and ran off.

"You'll have to catch me!" She called back as Davy laughed, chasing after the small girl as she ran off into the sunlight.

* * *

"And then the princess lived happily ever after in her magical sugar castle alongside the handsome prince. The end." Beatrice smiled as she sat propped up on Peter's lap, the two of them nuzzled comfortably on the couch together in the living room. After everyone had come home from the beach, Mike had fixed up some lunch. As the hectic early morning turned into a lazy afternoon, Davy, Micky, and him had gone off to take a nap. Peter, being the hyper child he was, decided to stay up and entertain Beatrice. She had insisted on him telling her a princess story. It had gone on for a good half hour, and Beatrice was beginning to get a little sleepy herself. She rested her head on his chest as Peter ran his fingers through her long hair soothingly.

"But what about the evil ogre? Did he get married too?" She asked, glancing up into the man's eyes. He laughed as he adjusted his position.

"Yeah, the ogre got married to an ugly ogre princess, and they had the ugliest looking ogre babies and they all grew up to be lawyers and then they got married and one of them had an odd looking baby. They named him Mike Nesmith." Peter replied. Beatrice giggled at his goofy ending to the story. She really liked Peter a lot. He got down to her level. He understood the fears of a child and the need for stories and fun and imagination. He came up with the wildest ideas for a five headed fire breathing dragon that could shoot ice out of his eyes and throw up chocolate and a princess who wanted to be a math teacher but had spiky purple hair so they wouldn't allow her in the school. Only Peter Tork would think up ideas like that. But he still had the small girl on the edge of her seat (or his lap, I should say) with engagement as Princess Popsicle fell in love with the Prince Pantsalot and they flew on unicorns and flying cats to lands made of marshmallows and gumdrops. That was the kind of charm he had. Beatrice snuggled into his lap a little more and Peter threw an arm over her.

"You're crazy, Peter." She giggled as he bopped her on the nose gently. The blonde smiled down at her and clutched her tighter.

"I know I am, kid. You'll get used to it." It was silent for a few moments as both tried to think of something to say. Finally, little Bea broke the ice.

"Princes and princesses are real, right?" She asked innocently.

"Of course they are. How else would we have magical things like music and Twinkies?" Peter said. Beatrice giggled.

"I always knew that Twinkies came from some place special." Peter chuckled. Bea fiddled with the sleeve of her sweater before opening her mouth once again.

"You're my prince, Peter." She said, shifting in her seat so the two were face to face. Peter blushed.

"Oh gosh. Really?" He gafooned. Bea nodded her head wildly.

"Of course you are. You're able to make things seem so fun and exciting and you helped rescue me from an evil mother too. It's like you popped out of a storybook or something." She cooed. Peter smiled. He never thought of himself as a hero. If anything, it was Mike. But in a way, he was. He was able to transform a broken little girl into a princess with the twinkle in his eye and the ideas bursting from his head. He had saved her mentally, distracting her from her everyday troubles and placing her into worlds were a little magic and imagination were all you needed to get by.

"Aw, that's real sweet." Peter said, leaning back into the cushions as he started to close his eyes. Beatrice let out a yawn as well as she snuggled into his side, wrapping her small arms around him.

"And you're my princess." Were the last words the girl heard before she fell to sleep, embraced in the strong arms of her prince.

* * *

"So is it true that you were really raised by ogres?" Bea asked as the wool hat wearing brunette sat cross-legged on the floor of the closet the two were in. She gave him a cock of the head and a smirk. He shot her a funny look.

"Raised by ogres? Where in the world did you get that crazy idea?" Mike asked her as he pawed through the large cardboard box in front of him, filled with baseball cards, scrapbooks, and old report cards from when he was a kid.

"Peter told me! He said that a bunch of lawyer ogres had kids and one of them was an odd looking boy named Mike Nesmith!" She giggled. Mike rolled his eyes.

"Don't ever listen to anything Peter says about me. He once told my mom that I gave up rock n' roll and moved to India to pursue a career in yoga." He exclaimed. "Now could you help me find that cookbook?" Beatrice and Mike were huddled around one of the boxes Mike never unpacked when he first moved in The Pad. They were on the hunt for a recipe for baked ziti and the man was certain that it was in one of those dusty books that hadn't been touched in years. The rest of the Monkees were out at the store, getting ingredients for that dish, and Mike didn't want to let them down by saying that he couldn't find the recipe. So the girl was in there to help him look. Beatrice kneeled down beside him and began searching through all of the stacks of paper as well.

"I found it!" Mike cried, trying to pry the dust encrusted hardcover cookbook from the bottom. Without intending to, he knocked the whole box over, spilling all of its contents onto the floor. Millions and millions of particles of dust came shooting out, surrounding the two in a cloud. Mike let out a hacking cough, as he stood up and rushed outside into the bedroom. A worried Beatrice ran after him, pushing the box away.

"Mike, are you okay?" She asked as he took a seat on Davy's bed, coughing into the crook of his elbow.

"I'm-*wheeze*- fine." He stuttered out though struggled, raspy breaths. Beatrice wasn't convinced. She placed her hand on Mike's back as he continued to wheeze lightly for a couple of minutes. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what was wrong with him. What was happening to her Mike? But pretty soon, he was breathing normally again. Bea stared up at him with worry filled eyes as she clutched his shirt with small fists.

"You aren't fine." She said at last, her high voice cracking. Mike coughed one last time and wrapped his arm around her when he saw how scared she was. Almost as badly as him.

"Don't worry. I'm okay now." He said comfortingly. Beatrice crossed her arms over her chest.

"Then what was all of that about?" She demanded. Mike let out a sigh.

"I just got a little wheezy from all of that dust," He started. "I've got a slight case of asthma-"

"What's that?"

"It's, um, it's a sickness-"

"SICKNESS?!" Beatrice exclaimed, jumping off the bed. Mike held up his hands in defense.

"Now, don't get all worked up. It's a common sickness. It just means that I can't breathe as well as most people can." He admitted, reaching into his pocket.

"This thing helps me with that," He explained to her, pressing a small red and white inhaler into her hand. "It's filled with medicine that helps make my lungs work better if I'm feeling out of breath." Beatrice rolled the plastic object around in her hands before handing it back to him and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"All this time, you've been saying that you need to protect me. But now it's my turn to say it. Because I'm going to protect you too." She beamed, placing a small kiss on his cheek once she saw that he truly was better. Mike was caught off guard by that, but he soon wrapped his arms around the small girl's waist as well.

"Alright. Thank you Beatrice." He said, getting up from the bed and taking the cookbook under one arm, as she grabbed his hand, following him down the stairs.

Baked ziti never sounded better.

* * *

**(A/N): As I promised, twists and turns! I'd also like to take a moment to thank you all for all of your reviews and support on this story. They're the things that keep me motivated to write! Thank you so much! The next chapter should be up soon! :) **


	6. Chapter 6

**(A/N): Hey hey everyone! Here's the next chapter! Enjoy! :)**

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**Chapter 6  
**Right after Micky, Davy, and Peter came bursting through the front door, their arms stuffed with overflowing bags of ingredients for dinner (and a box of cookies which somehow "accidently" got put in there); Mike heated up the oven and started cooking. Beatrice sat atop the kitchen counter, handing him everything he needed along the way. The two of them made a pretty good team. When the homemade meal was ready and set on the table, all five of them sat around and ate, while Micky told jokes and Davy tried to balance his spoon on his nose and Peter tried to see how many peas he could fling at Mike without him noticing. He got one. Once everyone was stuffed and happy, Beatrice helped her hat wearing friend with washing the dishes, getting splashed a few times with the sudsy water as the pair soon started blowing bubbles at each other with the soap. Their laughs rang throughout the house, and when the little girl started to get that familiar tiresome look on her face, Micky came in and hoisted her up on his back, giving Bea a piggyback ride to the bedroom. Rummaging through Peter's drawers again, he found a nightgown about her size and a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. He helped her brush her pearly white teeth, careful not to scrub the two new loose ones she just recently got too hard. Then, Micky carried her into their bedroom and laid her down on Mike's bed once again; tucking her in, making sure she was comfortable. Davy, Peter, and Mike all came up to wish her goodnight, each one getting a hug and a small kiss on the cheek. And as soon as they switched off the lamp beside her, she was fast asleep. Tiptoeing out the door and closing it behind them, the Monkees all exited down the spiral staircase and plopped down on the sofa.

"Wow. What a day." Davy said as he let out a triumphant sigh. The guys all nodded in agreement.

"She really is an amazing kid." Micky remarked.

"She said I was her prince." Peter blushed.

"She told me she was gonna protect me." Mike smiled. Then, it fell silent for a few moments as all four of them sat around, reflecting on their individual time spent with Beatrice. Even though they'd all only been acquainted for a day, each one of them felt like they had known the girl her whole life. They could instantly feel a connection. It was something special, I'll tell you that. It definitely was. Then, the phone rang.

"Oh, that must be Deputy Terrance. Finally…" Mike muttered, jumping up from his spot and rushing over to the kitchen, with the others in tow. They all stood huddled around the tall Texan as he picked up the phone and put it on speaker.

"Hullo?"

"Mr. Nesmith? Is that you?"

"Yes it is, sir." He clutched the receiver so hard, the tips of his knuckles turned white.

"This is Deputy Terrance from down at the station. I'm sorry for calling so late, but we've, erm, been a little tied up here all day." Davy raised an eyebrow. What did they mean by _tied up_?

"Anyways," Terrance continued. "We found Mrs. Walker hiding out behind a bar, with no memory whatsoever of leaving the kid alone, and she's locked up in rehab again." The Monkees did a silent victory dance around the kitchen.

"Aw, well that's great!" Mike exclaimed softly, not wanting to wake up the sleeping child upstairs. Speaking of that particular child, he cleared his throat nervously.

"Uh, well, we're all extremely happy that Mrs. Walker is off the streets and can't cause little Bea any more pain," He started. "But what are we going to do with the girl?" Deputy Terrance fell silent for a moment.

"Well, it's the end of the day. By law, it says that I've got to put her up for adoption, even though I really don't want to. I'm pretty sure that her mom won't be getting out of rehab any time soon, and the kid's got no other family left." If you heard a loud cracking sound at 1334 North Beechwood Drive in Malibu, California, it would be the sound of four hearts shattering to pieces. An orphanage? For Beatrice? There was just no way. Mike swallowed thickly.

"Um, Deputy Terrance, we're going to call you back. We'd like to discuss this matter in private for a moment." He said shakily as he hung up the phone, not waiting for answer back. When the dark haired man turned around, he was greeted with three pairs of urgent eyes.

"An orphanage?!" Davy panicked, his arms flailing. "They can't send her to an orphanage! Do you have any idea what they do to kids in there?" He cried. Mike nodded his head solemnly as he leaned back on the kitchen table.

"I know, I know." He said, taking off his hat and running a shaky hand through his wavy dark hair. "We're not sending Beatrice to go live there." Micky raised an eyebrow.

"Then where are we going to send her?" Peter asked. Mike sighed.

"We're not sending her anywhere. She's staying right here, because we're going to adopt her." Micky, Davy, and Peter all stared at him, with their mouths open a gap as an eerie silence fell throughout the house. Was he for real? Mike, the man who wouldn't even let them keep a goldfish in the house, was now the one suggesting that they adopt a little girl. The three exchanged glances at each other.

"We are?" Micky finally piped up. Mike nodded.

"Yes, we are. There ain't no way I'm sending her to some horrible orphanage to rot for the rest of her life. She's staying right here with us." He stomped his foot down. The Monkees were taken a back by their friend's sudden outburst.

"Are you okay with that?" He demanded.

"Of course we're okay with the idea, but, but, but-" Davy started, searching for the right way to explain the thousands of thoughts racing through his mind at a rapid speed.

"But are we ready for this?" Peter spoke for him. Those were the words he were looking for. Were they ready? Were they ready to change their irresponsible, childish ways and step up and raise another human being? Were they ready to tackle the worries and problems of a parent? Were they ready to rescue an already shattered little girl and build her up so she was able to live a happy childhood that she so badly deserved and needed?

"I think we are," Mike started as he got up and paced around the cold tile floor. "Take today for example. Each one of us helped her out in some way without even realizing it. That's good parenting right there." He commented. The guys sighed and thought that over for a moment. They did. Each one of them. Even though it was for a brief moment, they had made a small difference for her.

"We're going to have to change our game plan a little. No more late night gigs unless absolutely necessary, no more wasting money on junk we don't need." Peter declared as he crossed his arms over his chest nervously. "We're going to have to step up and take a lot more responsibility around here. A child needs a lot of attention, and they aren't something you can just push aside until later. She's depending on us to provide her with the things she needs." It was a little ironic for the most irresponsible member of the group who always found himself in trouble to be giving that little speech. But in the short time that Beatrice was in his arms earlier that day, he realized that he was hero in her eyes. Her tiny, innocent blue eyes. He had to be a good role model. That didn't mean that he would immediately drop his fun-loving, childish manner. But he would just have to be careful with what he did around her. He'd have to make sure that he watched out for her all the time.

"We'll have to start thinking up bedtime stories and getting used to using coloring books again." Micky smiled. He thought of the fun he had had when Bea yanked him out of the laundry hamper when they were playing hide and seek. He thought of how worried she was that she was a bother to him and the rest of the fellas. He thought of how he had comforted her and made sure that she knew she was important and she was definitely one of the best things that had ever happened to them. Micky knew he would need to be a supportive guy that she could come and talk to.

"She's already become pretty attached to us. And I must admit that we've become pretty attached to her as well." Davy nodded, remembering how scared Beatrice was to roll up her sleeves and reveal the pain that she had been through so many times before. He knew she was going to have a bit of a hard time adjusting to the fact that she was perfectly safe and had no reason to worry about getting lashed out on every time they made a mistake. He remembered how once he had told her that, she allowed him to hold her and comfort her, even though they hadn't been all to acquainted at the time. The girl was beginning to loosen up. She was beginning to trust again.

"And so what if there are challenges? There's going to be an occasional cold or a scraped up knee or a nightmare. That's what makes parenthood interesting. We'll get through hard times together, and learn from them." Mike explained, thinking back to his little asthma attack and seeing how panicked Beatrice was to see him in such a state. Things like that were bound to happen again. He remembered how determined the little girl was to make sure that nothing would ever happen to Mike on her watch and how she wanted to protect him so badly. He realized that Beatrice was going to be there for all of them when they needed it as well. They'd get though rough patches together.

"We're going to need to provide her with immense amounts of love and support. She needs to forget about everything that's happened in the past and step into the future. Do you think we can give her all we can?" He asked finally. After taking in everything that had been put out there and all of the incidents from the day, Micky, Davy and Peter nodded their heads with determination fierce in their eyes.

"Then I think we're ready for this." Micky said, his voice serious for once.

"I know we're ready for this." Peter replied, as he handed the phone to Mike, who took it in a shaky, sweaty hand and redialed Deputy Terrance's number once again. After this call, things were never going to be the same again. But it was definitely a good kind of change.

"Hullo?"

"Yes, it's Michael Nesmith again. We've decided that we're going to adopt Beatrice Walker."

* * *

**(A/N): Yay, they finally did it! I really enjoyed writing this chapter! I hope you liked reading it just as much! Things are about to get real cute soon. Please review! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**(A/N): Hey guys! I'm so sorry for not updating recently. I've had so much homework this week and things are a little hectic as I'm going through the process of trying to find a high school. It's going to be a little tough to post during the week, but I'll try my hardest. But most likely, most of my chapters will be posted on the weekend. Anyways, here's the next chapter to our little story. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 7  
**"OH MY GOSH DARNIT, PETER, YOU ALMOST SPILLED COFFEE ON ALL THE LEGAL DOCUMENTS!"

Beatrice shot up in bed at the sound of Mike's urgent cry downstairs.

"WELL KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN! YOU'RE GONNA WAKE UP BEATRICE!"

Well it was too late for that. Rolling over to face the clock on the bedside table, Bea noticed that it was six in the morning. What were the guys doing up so early on a Sunday? Then, glancing around the bedroom, she noticed that the guys' beds were all perfectly made, untouched. They were obviously up all night, doing something. But what? Beatrice swung her feet over the side and walked out into the hallway. She groggily rubbed her eyes as she made her way down the spiral staircase and into the living room, where the four Monkees lay sprawled around, papers scattered everywhere, and about a billion mugs of coffee placed randomly around as well. Beatrice stepped off the staircase and curiously walked over to them. Davy was fast asleep on the couch, his mouth hanging open, Mike and Peter stood arguing with one another in the corner, and Micky sat against the wall, his hand clutching his hair as he scribbled something down on a pad of paper furiously. The little girl stood over the British lad who was snoring slightly and placed a quick kiss on his nose, which immediately sent him springing up.

"I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, I FELL ASLEEP!" He cried, jumping to his feet, nearly sending the gallons of coffee behind him flying in his haste. Beatrice stared at the men's behavior in shock as she walked over to Mike and tapped him on the back. He spun around, his eyes bulging, until he realized who it was.

"Oh, hi there Bea. Sorry for uh, all the mayhem around here. Things have been a little hectic." He admitted, placing a hand on the back of his neck. She shot him a confused look.

"What are you guys dong up so early? It's Sunday." Micky bit the top of his pen as he glanced up from what he was working on and glanced at the other three nervously. They were all thinking the same thing: how are we going to tell her? Davy rubbed his eyes and was the first to walk over to her.

"Well Beatrice, we've been up all night doing lots of paperwork. Important paperwork." He added as he returned to his seat on the couch and patted his knee, signaling for the girl to have a seat on his lap. She obeyed.

"What kind of important paperwork?" She asked innocently, as the rest of the Monkees walked over and took a seat on the couch as well. They all remained silent for a few moments, trying to think of the right words to say. I mean, what would you do? You go out on a walk and find a mysterious little girl. You bond with her over the next 24 hours, and two days after your encounter, you're adopting her? It was a tough call. But Mike decided that it would be best to get straight to the point and be 100% honest.

"Well, um, they're adoption papers." He muttered softly. Bea's eyes bulged. What did he just say?

"Adoption papers?" All four guys nodded.

"Bea, the police called last night after you went to bed, and well, they're sending your mom back to the rehab center for a long time. They don't think that she's a safe person for you to be around. You need somebody who will always be there for you and will always be ready to help you and give you lots of love. Your mother just wasn't that kind of person." Micky explained as he saw the shocked look on her face. Beatrice nodded her head understandingly. Her mommy really was never coming back. She had wished for this day for so long, it all seemed like a dream now that it was actually happening.

"They needed somebody, or somebodies, to take care of you. To love you and to protect you and to make sure that you're the happiest little girl in the world. And we all agreed to do just that," Peter said as he took one of her small hands in his. "Beatrice, we haven't known each other for too terribly long, but words can't describe how much you mean to us. You're special in every way and you've brought so much joy and laughter and fun into this house that we just couldn't stand to see you go anywhere else than right here. We need you just as badly as you need us."

"Everything is all settled. We were up all night signing all of the legal documents and papers to make it official. Officer Terrance from the station came over earlier this morning and brought over your birth certificate and all of your health forms and emergency information. We paid for insurance so if you fall and break a bone, we're covered. Terrance even said that they're going to bring over all of your belongings so you can have all of your clothes and toys to make you feel more at home. There's a spare room upstairs right across the hall from ours that we're going to paint pink or green or whatever color you want, because believe it or not, my small bed just isn't big enough for the two of us." Mike chuckled. Beatrice just sat in silence, trying to take all of this in. Her face had paled and her hair fell limply over her clenched up shoulders.

"We know it's sudden, but we just love you so much and couldn't stand to see you go. We're going to have a great time together. We're going to spoil you rotten with whatever your little heart desires. Because you're ours now. Is that okay?" Davy asked. Bea just sat clutching Peter's hand so hard, the tips of her knuckled turned white. Is it okay? IS IT OKAY? The four strangers who had recused her and accepted her and cared about her and loved her were asking if it was okay to adopt her. The small girl didn't know what to say. It had been a long battle. A long battle of hiding from the woman who had birthed her every time she came home wasted. It had been a long battle of covering up her bumps and bruises with concealer from her teacher at school every day. It had been a long battle of trying to stay strong for herself, in hope that one day, she'd be able to escape from everything. Escape from the grief of losing her father, escape from the abuse, escape from living in fear. But it was all over now. A battle that had lasted seven years was all over now. And she had won. She had won, and she had gotten the best prize of all: She had gotten a home and a family where she knew she was safe and would never have to live behind bars again. To the guys' surprise, she burst into tears. The four Monkees sat in shock. Beatrice buried her small face in her hands as her shoulders heaved up and down, cries escaping her mouth. Oh no. Was it all too soon? Did she not want to stay with them? Did they do something wrong?

"Beatrice!" Mike exclaimed, reaching for her carefully. Fear was vivid in his eyes.

_She hates us,_ he thought to himself. _She hates that we took her from her mom. She wants to go home._

But the girl jumped off of Davy's lap and ran into the tall Texan's arms. She sobbed into his shoulder as the other guys rushed over worriedly. Mike grasped her back tightly as he rubbed soothing circles into her back. It was the same thing he had done two nights ago out on the streets. But they were in a much different position now. When she raised her head, Mike saw that she was smiling. Wait, what? Smiling?

"I-I-I don't know what to say," Bea started. "All my life, I just wanted somebody to truly care for me. And now I've got it. You guys have made me feel so incredibly special and loved. That was on thing that I never got at home before. But it's different here. I can't thank you four enough." Bea clutched him harder as Mike kissed the top of her head. His eyes started to water. No. She didn't hate them. She couldn't do that. She loved them. She loved the four of them more than anything in the world. And now, she was theirs. She was their little girl. Micky, Davy, and Peter soon joined in on the hug. There wasn't a dry eye in the house. The Monkees stood in the middle of their pad, all hugging the small girl cradled in Mike's arms, as tears of joy and relief ran down their faces simultaneously. Never in a million years would they have expected to be in this spot. But here they were.

They were a family now.

One big, crazy, musical happy family.

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**(A/N): Well, I hope you guys liked it. Once again, I'm sorry for the wait. I'll most likely start writing through the week and post on the weekends, as the school year is dragging on and I'm getting a lot more projects to do and a lot more tests to study for. But this story is still going to be updated as much as possible! Please review! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**(A/N): Hello everyone! Once again, sorry for the wait. School is literally sucking every ounce of my time and energy, and I just don't have time to sit down and write for a good hour every day like I used to. What I am going to do is to write little snibbits of story during the week and post them on the weekends. If I can, I'll try to get a chapter up during the week, but I'll see how my busybusybusy schedule is working. Anyways, enough from me. Here's chapter 8! Enjoy! :D**

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**Chapter 8  
**The rest of the day was extremely busy for The Monkees and little Beatrice, as the five of them had a lot to do and a lot to get done. A little while after breakfast later that morning, Deputy Terrance came strolling in as promised, wheeling a cart full of boxes, overflowing with toys, clothes, and other necessities that belonged to the young girl. There were at least fifteen of them, which Mike, Micky and Peter all helped carry up to the small bedroom across from theirs. Beatrice skipped up the stairs behind them as Davy talked with a few other officers who had come by to help, spitting out all sorts of questions about the adoption process, making sure that all of their papers were signed correctly and in the right places. Peter was so tired, nervous, and hyped up on coffee that morning, he had accidently signed his name where the date was supposed to go. But all in all, they had got everything fixed and corrected, as Davy proudly handed over the stacks of documents over, which the police officers warmly took to be handed over to court. The four Monkees were all officially the legal guardians of Beatrice Walker. And boy, did it feel great.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Bea's new bedroom looked pretty bland when she first got up there. It was once the guest room, with a small bed, a set of drawers, a night table, and a closet. The walls were painted a depressing shade of white, and there was a small window in the center, overlooking the bustling beach below the,.

"Well Beatrice," Mike exclaimed as he wiped a gland of sweet off of his eyebrow, setting down his share of boxes. "Welcome to your new room! Now, I know it doesn't exactly look like a nice place to stay at the moment, but once we organize all your toys and clothes and paint the walls and hang up some pictures, it'll look real groovy!"

"What color would ya like to paint it? You can do any one that you'd like." Micky said as he bounced in behind the wool hat wearing man. He carefully set his box, containing an oddly large amount of stuffed animals, onto the stripped off bed. Beatrice thought for a moment before the most obvious answer came to her.

"PINK!" She exclaimed cheerily. Davy, who had crept in unnoticed, leaned against the doorframe and laughed as Peter walked in behind him.

"Well, pink it is then. I think that we might actually have some cans left over from that service project we had to do three years ago." He remarked, disappearing once again to go look for it. The rest of the guys started moving around furniture to the center of the room, to make sure they had enough space to work diligently. When Davy returned with a can of pale pink paint, a ladder, and five large brushes, they were all ready to begin.

Now, a seven year old girl helping to paint a room isn't exactly a great choice. But when you add that to the fact that four Monkees are also helping as well, it just spells disaster with a capitol D. But believe it or not, the bedroom turned out to look pretty good, for five amateur painters that is. After three hours of blood, sweat, and tears, plus a break for lunch and a break to just lie on the floor while everything dried, Bea's walls were painted a refreshing pink. Everyone stood back and admired their work with great pride.

"I'd say it looks pretty groovy!" Peter exclaimed. The other four nodded their heads in agreement.

"Now, we've got to unpack all these boxes." Mike sighed, plopping down on the floor as he ripped open the top to one.

"Now Bea, you just tell us where to put everything. Your every wish is our command." He said, putting his nose up to her cheek as she giggled. Then, everyone was off to work. The rest of the day was spent trying to get Beatrice's room all set up and comfortable for her, to make her feel at home. Peter had brought in the radio from downstairs, and everyone whistled while they worked as The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, The Beach Boys, The Doors, and Bob Dylan sang and jammed out through the tiny box. But at about four o clock, all five sets of ears perked up as a familiar tune filled the room. The shaky guitar riff and bang of tambourine rang throughout the room as Micky's voice soon started blasting through the speakers. Davy let out a laugh.

"Well, would you listen to that? That's us in there!" He cheered. Beatrice grinned as she scooted closer and paid close attention. The little girl was intrigued. She never realized that their band was so groovy sounding. This was her first time actually hearing The Monkees perform, and it was fantastic. She tapped her hand on the floor to the beat as Micky sang and the guys played their instruments on the recording. And as soon as it started, the song was over.

"And that was The Monkees with their far out hit, Last Train to Clarksville! Now, let's hit it old school, with a classic by Buddy Holly!" Beatrice zoned out the last part as she turned the volume down and turned to face the four men in front of her with a big smile plastered on her face.

"You guys sounded great! I had no idea that you were all playing on the radio. You're super stars!" She cried, crawling over to them. Micky laughed.

"I wouldn't say we're superstars. The Beatles are super stars. We're just trying to make it big with our music." He replied. Beatrice just smiled at him and shook her head.

"Well, you're going to make it big. I just know it. If it helps, The Beatles aren't my favorite band anymore. My favorite band is The Monkees and I'm their biggest fan." She said, wrapping her arms around Davy who was sitting on the floor beside her. The guys smiled as they turned up the radio again and got back to work. They sure as heck were glad to have her on their side. They knew that one day they'd get a big hit and become as famous as The Beatles were. But in the meantime, it meant a lot knowing that they had at least made little Beatrice happy with their song lyrics. That was as great as a platinum record in their eyes.

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After about thirteen hours of hard labor, the guys and Beatrice lay sprawled on the floor, eating Chinese takeout for dinner as they sat in her finished bedroom. Her clothes were all organized neatly into drawers as her shoes and dresses sat stacked neatly in the closet. Her bright blue comforter and three pillows were all placed on her bed, as about a gazillion stuffed animals lay scattered around on top of it and around it as well. Mike had found a small table that was being given away for free while he went out to get the food. It looked perfect for a tea party, so he picked it up and placed it below Bea's window, with five small white chairs to match. Her plastic tea saucers and cups and frilly white napkins were all placed delicately on top as her teddy bears and dolls sat propped up comfortably in the seats. Bea's record player was by her closet, set up nicely as her records were scattered below. The Monkees were quite surprised to see that she had some really neat ones. They had thrown a colorful fuzzy tie dye rug on the floor, which was soft enough to sleep on. There few family pictures on top of her dresser, but the guys had given her an autographed Monkees poster as well, which she gladly hung up on the wall right next to her bed. It was comforting to have all of her old things moved into her new room. It gave the small girl a sense of home, even though most of those memories weren't the best. But it still gave her a familiar feeling. She was glad to have a second chance at life, a new beginning. It was refreshing. It was a new chapter in her story. And man, it felt good.

Beatrice, Micky, Davy, Peter, and Mike were all sat around on the floor in their pajamas as they ate noodles and rice with chopsticks out of paper takeout containers. It was almost nine, and they were all extremely tired and looking forward to going to bed. Micky let out a yawn as he glanced around his surroundings contently.

"I'd say that we did a good job today. You've got the grooviest bedroom that I've ever seen, Bea." He smiled, patting the small girl on the back as she sat on his lap comfortably.

"Well, it's all thanks to you guys. Even though it has all of my old things, it's better than my old room at my old house. This one is a lot happier, because I know that we all fixed it up together." She giggled.

"Speaking of happy," Mike started, as he cleared his throat. "I was thinking that tomorrow, the five of us could go down to the pier. I heard that it's going to be a beautiful day. We could eat lunch on the beach and hang out around there." He said. Beatrice nodded her head excitedly at first. But soon, she stopped.

"But I can't! I've got school tomorrow." She remarked sadly, falling back onto Micky's chest. Oh yeah. It was Sunday night. Blah.

"That's right, I forgot." Mike said feebly.

"You go to Webster, right?" He remembered her telling him about her school on Friday night when the two of them were walking back home. She nodded her head sadly.

"Well, that isn't too terribly far from here. The four of us could take you over in the morning and pick you up when the day is done. Then we can go out to the pier after school or something and stay there for a while." Davy said. Bea sat in silence for a moment before agreeing softly. She wished she didn't have to go to school. She wanted to stay with the guys all day and hang out with them like they did all weekend. She didn't want to leave them after they had spent almost every minute together. But school was more important. That's what her mother had told her.

"Okay," She squeaked, yawning loudly right after. Peter smirked.

"It looks like someone's sleepy. I guess we all better start hitting the hay. It's been a long day" He sighed, standing up and collecting the trash from their dinner. Micky lifted Beatrice into his arms and placed her into her bed, wrapping her blankets cozily around her and placing one of her many stuffed animals into her arms.

"It feels nice to be in your own bed again, doesn't it?" He chuckled as he brushed a piece of her mousy brown hair behind her ear. Bea nodded her head slowly as her eyes began to flutter shut. The guys exchanged smiles as they leaned down and kissed the top of her head one by one, before quietly slipping out into the hallway. Davy shut off her lamp and took one last look at the little girl who was quietly dosing off, her small arms wrapped tightly around a stuffed hippopotamus. She looked like a little angel. She was. She was their little angel.

"Good night Beatrice." He whispered softly as he closed the door behind him, following the other three Monkees into their bedroom.

It didn't take them all but five minutes to fall asleep.

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**(A/N): Ta da! Please review! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**(A/N): Hello all! So, I felt that my first attempt at a Chapter 9 was pretty crappy and rushed, so when I was at school one day, a new and improved idea popped into my head. I rewrote the whole thing and am pretty satisfied with how it turned out, so here is the rewritten Chapter 9! Enjoy! :)**

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**Chapter 9  
**"And right now, we're learning about the two times tables and dinosaurs and George Washington! And I'm not trying to brag, but I'm kinda the best speller in my whole class. I can spell difficulty, no problem!" Beatrice babbled on as she clutched Mike's hand, skipping down the long tiled hallway of Webster Elementary School. Her black Mary Janes echoed throughout the corridor noisily. Mike smiled as he squeezed her little hand harder.

"Really?! I don't even think I can spell that." He exclaimed, turning the corner to her classroom. It had been a while since he had walked the halls of an elementary school. It definitely brought him strolling down memory lane. The walls were plastered with construction paper collages and fifth grade book reports. The old familiar smell of macaroni casserole drifting in from the cafeteria filled his surroundings with a heartwarming scent. And to see hundreds of tiny, pint-sized little kiddies marching down the stairs in a single file line, their school uniforms blending them in with one another, made Mike feel like the proudest man in the world for some odd reason. As he walked with Beatrice in his grasp, dressed neatly in her checkered school dress, black tights, and black shiny shoes, he realized that he was now a parent sending his child off to school. Never in a million years would he have imagined that he would ever be in this spot. The other three guys all felt the same way. All four of them had been up way earlier than they needed to be once again, wanting to make sure that they didn't oversleep or forget her lunch or mess anything up. They spent a good hour trying to figure out which foods to put in Bea's tin Jetsons lunchbox, and mapping out the quickest, yet safest way to drive from their house to the school. They had all washed up and combed their hair and put on their best shoes to try and make a good impression. Beatrice was impressed. She knew that they meant well. So as Mike walked with her and Davy, Micky and Peter waited anxiously in the Monkeemobile, she was in a good mood. They wanted to make sure that they did everything right and perfect, and that meant a lot to her.

"My teacher is Ms. Tulchin. Her classroom is right here." Beatrice guided the dark haired man to room 112 as she pushed open to wooden door and walked inside. Mike couldn't help but smile as he stepped into the small first grade classroom and saw about twenty other kids running about, playing with toys or sitting at their desks and coloring or even picking their noses. There was a sense of innocence that he found comforting. Soon, a tall, middle aged woman with her auburn hair falling loosely around her shoulders finally noticed that the two had arrived. She gently slid her reading glasses off of her sharp nose and stood up from her desk to greet them.

"Good morning, Beatrice." She bent down to the girl's level and smiled warmly. Beatrice grinned up at her.

"Hi Ms. Tulchin!" She exclaimed. The woman's eyes glistened with warmness as she stood up and extended her hand to Mike, who released Bea's and grasped it heartily.

"Hello. I don't think we've meet before. I'm Jennifer Tulchin, Beatrice's teacher." Miss Tulchin said kindly, her dimples deepening as she smiled. Mike returned the favor.

"Hello, ma'am. I'm Michael Nesmith." He replied. Beatrice cleared her throat and tapped her foot on the classroom's floor impatiently as she stared up at the two adults, waiting to be set free. Ms. Tulchin chuckled as she glanced down at the young girl.

"Beatrice, why don't you go over there and play hangman with Margie and Louis while I talk to your, uh, guardian." She suggested, motioning over to two other children gathered around one of the small desks. Beatrice considered that for a second before replying with an optimistic "Ok!", and skipped away towards the two. Mike smiled as he watched her, before turning back to Ms. Tulchin, who was ushering him over to her desk. She pulled up a chair for him and he sat down, as the woman turned to face him.

"So," she started. "Something tells me that you aren't just another relative of Beatrice. Judging by the way she came in here, actually happy and ready to face the day, there's something about you that's special." Ms. Tulchin eyed Mike up and down. He stiffened in his chair a little. When she saw how nervous he was, almost like he was a small child again, getting in trouble with the principal, she laughed and shot him a playful look.

"Now, don't be scared. I don't bite. I'm not going to give you detention." She joked. Seeing as he wasn't going to get his head bitten off, Mike loosened up a little and smiled back.

"That's right ma'am. I'm actually more than a relative, really. I'm kinda, uh, Bea's guardian." He replied, placing a hand on the back of his neck. There was an odd tension between the two. It wasn't a tension, really. More of a connection. Mike could sense that this woman wasn't just a teacher. She was a supporter. A supporter of Beatrice. She was the one who had reported to the police that little Bea wasn't safe at home and that she was getting hurt by her mother. She was the teacher. She was the one who was the one who had saved that little girl's life more than he had. He swallowed thickly as Ms. Tulchin's expression changed suddenly. It was a look of pure joy.

"Oh, really?" She exclaimed, not too loud of course, as not to startle the students who were all playing in the classroom, not a care in the world. Mike nodded his head.

"Yes ma'am. I fell across Beatrice last Friday night when I was taking a walk. Her mother abandoned her out on the streets." He replied solemnly.

"But the police told me that Mrs. Walker had changed. She had Beatrice in her custody, and things were going fine." Miss Tulchin said, dumbfounded.

"Apparently not. She turned back on alcohol, took Bea out of class, and left her out on the streets. She was there all day until I came across her. She was so scared and so cold, I couldn't stand to leave her out there. So I took her home with me to stay with me and my three friends at our house. The next morning we took the kid over to the station and they were on the hunt all day for her mother. They eventually found her and sent her back to rehab, and since Beatrice had no other family left, we decided to adopt her and take her in as our own. We couldn't bear to part with her. She'd enlightened our lives so much in the short period that we'd been watching over her." Mike explained. Ms. Tulchin just stared at him in silence for a moment. He cleared his throat nervously.

"That's kinda the reason why I wanted to walk her in her today. The police told me that you're one of the few people who have been there for her throughout this whole journey, and I just wanted to reassure you that she's with a better family now and that she's safe and is in no way of danger. Everyone can finally take a breath of relief." Mike met the teacher's charcoal brown eyes with his. Ms. Tulchin silently got up from her seat behind her desk and motioned for Mike to do the same thing. The two of them walked to the center of the room. Ms. Tulchin placed a hand on the man's shoulders as the two of them stood side by side, with a clear view of the little girl in front of them. Beatrice was kneeled down around a pint sized desk, laughing and giggling with a bunch of other kids as they started their third round of hangman. The happiness in her eyes was clear.

"You see that?" Ms. Tulchin started as the two just stared at the small girl from a distance. "She's laughing. She's laughing and she's having fun, like every child deserves to do. It's been a long time since I've seen her like this. In fact, it's probably the first time this school year. Ever since she first got assigned to my class, Beatrice had come in looking frightened, nervous, and sad. She didn't find pleasure in playing with toys or socializing with other children. Her other teachers said that she used to be a happy kid. But her home life was interfering with that. Now, now that you and your friends have got her, I truly see a change. She'd not afraid anymore. She can finally push past all those horrible memories and become a kid again." Mike considered all that had been said. It's the same thing that he and the rest of the guys had noticed. She had changed. But she had changed for the good. Ms. Tulchin turned her watery eyes to Mike and smiled.

"You're a hero, Mr. Nesmith." She said. Mike felt his hurt burst. But all he could do with grin back at the woman and nod his head.

"You've helped a lot too, Ms. Tulchin. You've probably saved Beatrice from a lot more than I ever did." He said caringly. Ms. Tulchin shook her head.

"No, I haven't. I didn't provide Beatrice with a family. That's all you. It's my job as a teacher to protect her during the school day, but once that bell tings at three o clock, it's not my magic that's working. It's yours." She whispered. Mike stared into her eyes, seeing as they were so heartwarming and loving. This woman cared for his little girl just as much as he and the rest of The Monkees did. That's all that mattered to him.

Suddenly, his eyes fell upon the clock hanging on the wall.

"Well, I better get going. I left my friends in the car, and I don't want them to roast." He chuckled as he turned to exit the door. Before leaving, Mike turned back to face the teacher.

"Thanks for everything, Ms. Tulchin." He remarked finally. She just smiled warmly and nodded.

"No, thank you." Mike turned to go, before he was interrupted by the pattering of feet rushing towards him. He whipped around and embraced Beatrice in his arms as she clung to him tightly in one last hug before the day began.

"Bye Mike!" She remarked cheerily, placing a kiss on his cheek. "Make sure to tell Micky, Peter, and Davy that I say hello." Mike just chuckled and set her down as he ruffled her mousy brown hair, placing a small kiss on the top of her head as well.

"Alright Bea, I will. Have a great day." He said as the young girl smiled up at him, then rushed back to her desk. Ms. Tulchin watched the scene unfold with great pleasure before returning her focus to the 24 first graders seated neatly in front of her.

"Okay class, today we're going to learn all about Abraham Lincoln! Can anyone tell me…"

Mike shut the door behind him quietly as he walked down the halls of Webster Elementary, with a new feeling of content. After that conversation, he _knew _that it was going to be a good day.

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**(A/N): I hope you liked it! And sorry for the delay. I've been sick all week and school is still pretty time consuming. _ Please review! :3**


	10. Chapter 10

**(A/N): I finally had enough down time to actually sit and write for a good couple of hours. I hope you guys enjoy this one. Thanks so much for all of your reviews and support on this story. I really appreciate it. :)**

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**Chapter 10**

At three o clock sharp, when the school bell rang, signaling the end of another busy day, Beatrice happily slung her backpack over her shoulder and skipped out of the building cheerily. She was surprised to see that the sky that had once been a bright blue earlier that morning had turned into a depressing gray over the hours. But she ignored all negative thoughts when she saw Peter waiting for her by the bicycle rack. Beatrice picked up her pace heartily and ran to him, jumping into his arms. The man smiled and hugged her back tightly.

"Hey Bea! How was your day?" He asked her. The girl smiled widely.

"It was great! We learned the three times table today!" She exclaimed, taking his hand as the two of them headed off towards the Monkeemobile together.

"That's cool," Peter said. "We were thinking about heading down to the pier like we promised last night. Would you be up for that?" Beatrice nodded her head excitedly, her hair bobbing wildly. As the two found their way to the car, Mike opened the door. He craned his neck out of the open window and stared at the sky uncertainly.

"I dunno about the pier anymore, guys. The sky looks awfully gray; I think there may be a storm coming." Micky rolled his eyes from the backseat.

"Oh Mike, stop being such a worrywart. It doesn't look that bad. Let's go." Mike shot his friend a look but when he caught a glance of Beatrice on Davy's lap, her blue eyes practically begging him to take them down, his expression softened as he started the engine.

"Alright, if you say so." He mumbled, driving off into the California sunlight.

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Mike was right (as usual). There _was_ a storm brewing, and it was a doozy. When the quintet had arrived at the pier earlier that afternoon, they had spent a good hour just playing around and winding down from the tiring Monday. Davy had stood overlooking the ocean with an eager Beatrice atop his shoulders as they chatted brightly. Peter and Micky had each taken one of her tiny hands as she skipped in between the two of them, babbling on about the day. Mike had sat firmly with his feet dangling over the water as the small child sat on his lap, his strong grip securing her from falling. She rested her head against his chest as he sang softly into her ear. It wasn't much, just a possible tune for a future song. But Beatrice enjoyed it anyways. But soon, dark storm clouds began to roll in, and sure enough, it started pouring out of nowhere.

And when I say pouring, I mean POURING.

The Monkees had scooped up Bea and made a desperate run for their car, but by the time they all arrived back at The Pad, all five of them were soaked to the bone, shivering and absolutely drenched. They ate a warm dinner of tomato soup with crackers and all took nice warm baths before the guys each gave Beatrice a quick hug and a kiss as they tucked her into bed. They thought that everything from there would be fine. But they were wrong.

Micky awoke on Tuesday morning to find that he was the first one up for once. The curly haired man noticed that it was almost seven, so he shook his three roommates awake and made his way across the hallway to get Beatrice up as well. When he opened her door, he couldn't help but smile when he saw her small framed all wrapped up in her blankets. Micky carefully pattered across the cold floor and kneeled down beside her, brushing her bangs out of her face gently.

"Beatrice," He cooed softly. "It's time to get up for school." The girl stirred in her sleep and groaned. Micky shook her gently and was met with a startling sight. Bea's face was a ghastly white. She had paled tremendously; however, her nose was bright red. She rubbed her eyes wearily and frowned.

"I don't feel good, Micky." She whimpered, letting out a pitiful cough. The man's face instantly fell as he placed a hand on her forehead. She was burning up.

"You don't feel good? Tell me what's wrong." He said as the seven year old turned to face him. She grasped his wrist with her small fingers. Her hands were ice cold, making him flinch.

"My throat hurts and my head hurts and I've been coughing all night." She explained. Micky nodded his head understandingly.

"Well kiddo, it sounds like you've got a cold. I'll go get the other guys, and we'll see what we can do." He comforted her, kissing the top of her head as he stood up and walked back across the hall. The rest of the Monkees were up and getting dressed. Davy smiled warmly at him, but soon stopped when he saw his friend's distressed expression.

"Is Bea ready for school?" He asked as Micky walked into the door frame. He shook his head.

"I think she caught a cold overnight from running in the rain. I walked in to check on her and she's burning up with a fever and has a cough, a sore throat, and a headache." Micky explained, earning himself three shocked looks.

"WHAT?!" The remaining Monkees hastily threw on the rest of their clothes and sprinted across the hall. Mike straightened his tie and quietly walked into the girl's room. The rest of the guys could soft muttering as the two of them talked silently with one another, until Mike came bolting out, shutting the door behind him.

"She's sick," he wheezed out rapidly. "She's sick and it's all my fault." Peter cocked an eyebrow.

"Your fault?" He asked. Mike nodded as struggled breaths started to escape from his slowly constricting chest.

"I knew we shouldn't have gone to the pier. I knew it was going to rain. Now our little girl is suffering and it's all my fault." Micky stared at his friend with panic filed eyes as he saw that Mike was starting to hyperventilate. His chest was heaving up and down wildly as wheezy, harmonica sounding gasps were coming out of his mouth. Mike had the tendency to do this. He was a perfectionist. He had to have things go the right way or he would just make himself sick about it. He'd get all worked up and start forgetting how to breathe, giving himself asthma flare-ups from stress. Micky carefully placed both of his hands on his friend's heaving shoulders, pushing Mike's back against the wall, sliding him down to the floor.

"Mike, just calm down. You need to breathe." He said, as Davy turned back into their bedroom, grabbing the man's inhaler off of his bedside table. He hurriedly handed it to Micky, who handed it to Mike, who took it gratefully with a shaky hand. He snatched off the cap, shook it up, and placed the mouthpiece to his lips, pressing down on the canister. Instantly, he felt relief sweep over him as the medication shot through his lungs, loosening up his airways, letting sweet oxygen flow through them again. His three friends stared at him with concerned eyes.

"Are you okay?" Micky questioned worriedly. Mike nodded, taking one more puff of his plastic lifesaver.

"Okay. Mike, it's not your fault." He said. The Texan let out a wheezy sigh but nodded again. Peter crawled over and sat beside him.

"If Bea sees you like this, she's going to get scared too. Do you want that?" He asked patiently. Mike shook his head.

"Now, look. The kid's got a cold. There's nothing we can do to change that. But we can help her. We'll stay home and take care of her, because that's what parents are supposed to do. This is just a little bump in the road, but we can make it through, right?" Davy consoled. Mike considered this, but nodded again. His breathing was back to normal, much to everyone's relief.

"You're right. I overreacted. I just don't want anything to happen to her. I want her to be safe from everything. But she's human. She's gonna get colds and scrapes and stuff like that. I need to accept that and take responsibility instead of freaking out." He admitted, standing up slowly with Davy and Peter's support. Micky smiled and patted him on the back.

"That's the spirit." He said as the four of them walked into Bea's bedroom together. Davy took a seat on the pink bed beside her as the small girl stared up at him with curious eyes, letting out a small cough. He smiled.

"Looks like you're staying home today, kiddo."

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**(A/N): Hope you enjoyed! Hopefully, I'll be able to get another chapter posted this weekend. Please review! :)**


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